The Order of Saint James of Compostela
Virtue, though held back, returns - Motto of the Order of Saint James of Compostela
Prologue
The Order of Saint James of Compostela was founded in secrecy in 1071 by the order of a lone member of the Council. Its job, which it did in the dark lairs of the castles Burgos and Leon, was to maintain a pure bloodline within the houses Kendall and Zielenski. The idea was to maintain that no family could attempt to undermine the other through pedigree. In theory any ruler of either Castile or Leon could trace their ancestor back to either Nicholas Kendall or Michael Zielenski through simple father-son succession, and then to the other through at least one female.
May 12th, 1103
“Word travels quickly,” Father Oswald said, crossing his chest. Sister Agatha repeated the motion and lowered her head.
“We have failed; this puts us back some time.”
“I heard that Kazimierz died without an heir.”
“No, Sir, our insiders within the Council say that he was murdered.” Oswald’s face whitened at what he had heard, he glanced around the dark, inevitably empty hallway, and shuffled Agatha into a private room.
“Murdered?!” he said, stunned, “Why?! How?”
“The Council believed that he was a poor heir and a danger to the House of Zielenski. Operatives from the House of Kendall killed him.”
“The Council is not supposed to be an agent of murder.”
“Bolko will inherit the throne of Leon, and after him his son Janusz. After Janusz is Sieciech.” Oswald looked down at the genealogy. King Maslaw had been wed to Gytha, daughter of Nicholas, and had given birth to only one son, Kazimierz and two daughters before dying during childbirth. It was her son who was supposed to become heir, or at least produce an heir before dying.
“Kazimierz was the key to balance, all we had planned!” Oswald slammed his fist on the table. Agatha jumped back, startled by the motion.
She stuttered, but eventually formed the words that had come to mind, “Bolko’s line will work, it only set us back temporarily. He is a son of Megan, first wife of Michael. His only wife is the daughter of the King of Bohemia. His son, Janusz, will grow to be a good man.”
“How do you plan to mend this?” Oswald asked harshly.
“Aethelwold, son of Heir-Apparent Sigered, must have one of his daughters wed to the first-born son of Janusz. The gap will be filled,” Agatha said. Her old face did not move very much, instead the same, emotionless stare remained there as you traced the lines with her eyes. Oswald’s face contorted in what could only be described as disgust.
“Does that not run the risk of inbreeding?”
“The risk in minimal, I ensure you. Janusz’s son would be Pechna Zielenski’s grand nephew and the daughter of Aethelwold would be her granddaughter. We have plotted this out.”
“Hmmm, I am not sure if I like this plan.”
“Father, it is the quickest way of patching this hole up. The quicker it is patched, the better.” The Father could not argue with that. The death of Kazimierz was sudden, and it definitely had the feel of a murder, but an assassination from the Council so quickly and silently could have only had one real source.
There was a light rapping at the door. “Come in,” Father Oswald said. Through the door appeared a much younger Nun, head bowed.
“Sister Agatha summoned me.”
“Hmmm.”
“Father Oswald, Sister Helena works within the House of Zielenski, and we are having her moved south under the pretense of missionary work. My hope is that she can ensure the proper marriage between the son of Janusz and the daughter of Aethelwold.” Sister Helena nodded trying to calm Oswald down.
“House Zielenski has proven that it is extremely interested in expanding its position within Europe. They’ve married into other families; they are noble, chivalrous, chaste, and proudly crusade in the in the name of Christ, our savior” The three crossed their chests and said a short prayer. Before continuing Oswald looked at the two sisters, like Agatha he was descendent of Saxon invaders, “House Kendall is a little more… barbaric…drunken, rude, blood thirsty… True to their Saxon name. They have already turned to inbreeding lest they lose their lineage to a non-Saxon. They’ve married into the Godwinsons, despite their lack of prestige and power.”
“Father, no one ever said that breeding heirs was going to be easy…” Sister Helena said quietly.
Father Oswald looked up at the Sister, a touch of anger flared across his face. “There is more to our plan than just breeding. Monarchs are like dough, clay in our hands. Kingdoms are not clay. They are iron, and if not forged properly, they will shatter to the first strike they make or receive,” he said forcibly. He took a deep breath, calmed himself and then returning his gaze to Helena said, “With
Blood we forge
Kingdom!”
